“You think…” Laylin drawled, recounting the band of beautiful women that always followed her. “But why would Princess Scarlet need witches or wizards?” Agatha shrugged and thought out loud, “Women like Princess Scarlet are usually like crows. They like collecting anything that catches their eye. I heard from her maids, she was abused by the previous Queen but she was a rebel. The previous Queen also burnt her tongue with hot coals. They say now she can taste nothing. To the Princess, this influence and freedom was everything. Some woman among the servants of the Princess must be of suspicious origin or exotic heritage, brought in for a certain purpose.” Laylin hummed in thought, “You don’t suppose they are planning something?” Agatha bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “Princess Scarlet looks like a spiteful spoiled ill-tempered heiress to the throne. Such women are hardly up to something as their pesky tricks keep them busy.” Laylin nodded. Princess Scarlet did look like she

In the dim moonlight, his face shone like stardust was dusted on his bronze skin. She glared at him. His nonchalance was what cut her pride the worst. He was a privileged conqueror, and even at his lowest, he must have never compromised his pride. How could he have ever understand her or the mocking whispers and gazes she faced every day! “Moron.” She murmured in disgust at herself. She didn't hate him but that didn't annoy her any less. It wasn't like she was deaf to all the demeaning curses of being a prostitute who sold her body to the King for favor, she pretended to not listen but it didn't hurt any less. She hated how she was such a putty in his hands despite what he did to her. What was wrong with her? Was she blinded by lust or was she this much deprived that she will yearn his comfort of all people?! But she tried not to blame herself too much. She really had no one... He was manly, there was nothing subtle or boyish about the man and he was some years older than her.

Wait.” She called out in panic. Though the commotion stopped and all of them paused in their places, her handmaids gave her a sideline glare as if telling her to back out of it. She read the letter. ‘Dear Princess Laylin of Ehan, I request your presence at the intimate gathering I have arranged in my garden. The gathering could serve as an olive branch in more ways than one. I shall await your presence this fine afternoon.’ Laylin stared at her credentials for a while, before looking up. She stared at the expectant eyes of both parties ready to pounce on her and dipped her pen in ink. In fine penmanship, she drafted a letter and handed it over to Melissa. Melissa clutched and ran with it as if her life depended on it. Her maids turned to her with their sore faces as if belittling her. Laylin ignored their imposing stares and instead focused back on the documents at hand. She was tired and the King's consolatory massages hadn't helped her. She should be rightfully resting but t

Laylin couldn’t understand what Scarlet obsession was with the White Wolf when there were only two living members left of the Rakhbar Royal Bloodline and one couldn’t shift while the other had demonic blood in him but was clearly a black beast. Instead, what interested her was Scarlet's surety that something would surely happen to alter the Government Policies in three weeks. With a sigh, she crossed the hallways. The Palace was quiet unlike the bustle of the day, the nights were hush as graves. Her mind drifted to the letter awaiting her and of course, her husband who would be aware of her meeting with his political rival. How frustrating! Somehow she wasn’t as scared of him as she was before but that may be because she hadn’t seen him or any other beast in their other form since that night. She involuntarily assumed them to be humans. As she was about to enter the hallway of the King’s Palace, her feet halted. A woman, barely dressed in red lace with straight black hair, was l

“Huh.” She scoffed, slamming her head back on her pillow. The suite was too big for its own good. She felt suffocated. It had been almost a week now but he didn’t even bother checking up on her which wasn’t really surprising. He was probably comforting his bitchy mistress. She had horrifying nightmares, where she is trapped somewhere unknown and the 'Foretold' rings in her ears. She groaned, throwing the pillows at the front wall. Why did she even bother with that cold-hearted man?! To him, she wasn’t anything more than a skirt that was readily available to him! Clenching her fist, she let out her aura. The temperature in the room rose from dead-cold to scorching hot to the point where she ended up sweating in the middle of winter. It was a ritual, she did regularly. Whenever she was in a bath or if she was alone. She exerted every single speck of aura from her body so he couldn't feel it. He wasn’t coming. His carefree indifference should only hurt her pride, but why did it pric